


Cravings, or Kiss and Spill the Beans

by imaginedandreal



Series: The Virtch and Moir Fluff Fix [6]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Smut, a bit more of it than in the last fic of the series but nothing too filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedandreal/pseuds/imaginedandreal
Summary: Rosie’s daughterly concern for her beloved dad provides a moment of humor at a Virtue-Moir family gathering. Canada Day, 2022.





	Cravings, or Kiss and Spill the Beans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Walkinrobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinrobe/gifts), [echoesofstardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoesofstardust/gifts).



> I’m an American who has no idea how Canadians celebrate Canada Day exactly, so in this fic I just modeled it after Fourth of July. I’m sorry, Canadians 😇  
> This one-shot takes place after the fic Harmony, aka Rosie is their older daughter, and they have a second on the way.  
> Happy reading, as always! 
> 
> To echoesofstardust: I couldn't post this and not dedicate it to you once more. I so truly hope you enjoy it!!! Thank you for your AU where TS are parents of Sophie😍That fic is easily one of the all-around bests of this fandom.  
> To Walkinrobe: I know we don't know each other, but I wanted to offer you this to say thank you for your wonderful little universe of humor and adorable VM parenting as well!

The installment of the pool in Tessa and Scott’s yard was set to be completed right in time for Canada Day. Naturally, it called for a more exuberant celebration of the day than ever before. The last days of the pool set-up, Scott spent the days helping his wife buy and gather all the necessary things for the receiving of all the numerous guests due to arrive for the poolside picnic, volleyball games, and swimming.

Rosie toddled after her mom and dad everywhere they went. The two year-old was a boundlessly curious, bright little girl, to the amusement and delight of both her parents and everyone who witnessed her exploration of the world. Even watching the constructors install the pool provided her with entertainment. 

“Look, Mama! Boom, boom!” Rosie would exclaim, pointing a tiny finger out of the kitchen window at the workers who were hammering away outside. It made Tessa laugh and kiss her little girl’s cheek. 

“Yes, baby, the workers are setting up the pool,” she’d reply fondly, loving to witness the easy fascination with which her little girl examined the surrounding world. 

Rosie appears to get lost in thought, furrowing her brow so adorably that Tessa can hardly keep from smothering her in more smooches. 

“Go boom boom like Daddy! Daddy go boom boom, up!” 

She points a sage finger upstairs, and Tessa understands the little girl’s allusion. Smart and analytical Rosie (“Doesn’t she remind you of another brilliant person?” Scott always says, smirking) compared in her young brain the workers outside to the noise that she has heard in the nursery upstairs, where Scott spent the previous two days putting together a brand-new baby bed. Not for their older child, though. For the future baby sister. 

“That’s right, Rosie-posie. Who’s Daddy making the bed for? Do you remember?” 

“Bab’sis,” Rosie replies promptly, her pink cheeks plumping with a sweet toddler smile. Of course she remembers. 

She’s been excited for her baby sister in her own innocent sweet way, since she inquired a month or two ago, ‘Why Mama big bewwy?’ To which they explained that her baby sister is living there, until she’s big enough and it’s time for Mama to go to the doctor, who will take the baby out of her belly. 

Rosie thought about it. “Baby big like Wosie?” she asked, touching the curve of her mom’s abdomen. Tessa felt the childish warmth of that little palm seep from where her daughter touched her straight into her heart. 

Scott smiled, and shook his head affectionately. “No, sweetie, the baby will be smaller than you are. Luckily for Mama.” Tessa rolled her eyes and elbowed him lightly. 

Rosie, being small, didn’t press them for further details, but had accepted the answer and went back to her toys. Tessa and Scott exchanged humorous glances: before they knew it, Rosie would be big enough in a couple of years to ask the more complicated questions.

Now Rosie plants her little hands on either side of Tessa’s belly, and snuggles her face against it. “Baby,” she chirps again. 

Tessa feels her heart swell, with love and gratitude not just for the little one growing inside her body, but for her older but still so little (and so loving) child. Rosie is spring sunshine captured in a pint-sized human being, smiling and sweet to absolutely everyone - regardless of them being parents, family, or complete strangers. 

Scott comes into the room, and Rosie immediately lets go of Tessa, squealing and scurrying to him. He bends and scoops her up, to her delighted giggles, grinning and kissing her head. 

“Well well, isn’t it Rosie Tessie Janey!” he exclaims, pretending to be surprised at meeting her. Rosie snuggles her face into his neck. “How’s my sweet girl?” 

“Me good, Daddy! Me good, Mama good, baby good,” she lists, informing him seriously about the well-being of her family members. Scott hums, approaching Tessa, as Rosie winds her small chubby arms around him. 

“Are you good, Mama?” he inquires slyly, leaning to kiss his wife. Tessa reciprocates, sighing in undisguised pleasure at the feel of his lips and tongue brushing hers.

“Never been better, Daddy,” she smirks, once they separate, but only for a second. His eyes rove over her filled-out shape, enjoying the sight of her pregnancy for the second time already. 

He feels at once blessed to be part of this with her, and seriously turned on by the visible changes on her body, just like he had been during her pregnancy with Rosie. Once he lays his eyes on her again now, he immediately goes in for another kiss, even deeper than the first. One of his arms that isn’t supporting his daughter twined snugly around Tessa’s soft waistline, and he roams his palm there tenderly, until she chuckles.

“Are you seriously groping me right now, Scott Patrick? There are literal kids literally right here with us,” she scolds playfully, but a flicker of green fire in her eyes tells him the exact opposite - that she can hardly wait, as does he, for nightfall, when they would be able to continue their sexy antics.

“Kid!” Rosie copies, oblivious to her parents’ mutual teasing, and proud of herself for trying to participate in their conversation. To that, they both laugh, and Scott winks at his wife.

“That’s right. Here’s my big kiddo - ” he plants a kiss on Rosie’s cheek, “- and my tiny kiddo,” he leans to kiss Tessa’s bump, and is rewarded by a light nudge from the growing baby girl. Tessa grins at him when he straightens up, leaning in for still more kissing of their own. 

For her part, she can’t miss the immense appeal of the sight of him shirtless and bronzed from the sun, summer shorts riding low on his waist, holding _their_ little girl and smiling at her in a way that, she feels, is seductive enough to impregnate her. If such a thing were possible in the face of the current pregnancy that happened to her the traditional way. A wave of arousal builds off that image and Scott’s warm eyes, looking into hers, and Tessa stifles a whine of longing. Evening was still so far away, and she is almost one hundred percent convinced to just get in the car, deposit Rosie to the nearest grandparents’ (or uncle’s or aunt’s) house, and pounce on her unfairly sexy husband. 

Scott, true to his form, picks up on and visibly reciprocates that desire. 

“Soon, T,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to brush her ear, “soon we’ll have each other to ourselves. I promise.” He non-verbally promises her what they call ‘soul-shredding orgasms,’ and he knows he’s down for one or two as well. 

As soon as her second trimester began, Scott had been amused, astonished, and pleased to discover - all equally - the transformation in Tessa. Not only her delightful baby belly made an appearance, but also the change in her mood, from around every other day to being absolutely ravenous every couple hours, in terms of sex. And they both loved that. The first trimester this time was more challenging than during the pregnancy with Rosie, and only hospital intervention had relieved Tessa’s intense morning sickness. After she recovered, though, she began to have cravings.

Earlier, when they were still only trying for their first child, Scott joked about the prospect of waking up at two in the morning to race to the nearest supermarket to get pineapples with ketchup and maple syrup-covered pickles to satisfy Tessa’s unexpected hankerings for food. Yet, the only strong yearning she showed was for chocolate - a bar of Lindt here and there, Scott- and Alma-baked caramel-chocolate brownies, and, the _ultimate_ cliche, as she herself admitted, Nutella right from the jar. It was one day that Scott found her shoveling the sweet chocolate-hazelnut spread into her mouth, sitting on the couch in the living room in front of the TV, weeping her heart out. He’d immediately dropped everything to hurry to her side and ask what was wrong. Tessa turned out to have come across a replaying of _The Notebook_ and it had reduced her to tears, the way it had never done before. 

One way or another, Tessa doesn’t really seem to crave any food this second pregnancy. 

Craving _Scott,_ however, is a whole different story.

He himself loves it, loves, as always, whenever she’s so unrestrained in her passionate desire for him. Keeping up might be a bit of a challenge, but neither of them push each other _too_ far, especially not Tessa, in spite of her elevated sex drive. 

When on the first night, that quiet, almost timid _Please, Scott...just a little bit?_ slipped out of her mouth, he’d been pleasantly surprised - considering it was 4:30 in the morning, and he knew that normally, not even sex would be enough of a motivation to make her wake up this early, or stay up this late; and this was especially true as they were the parents of a toddler. 

She’d taken his hand and placed it beneath her nightie, right between her thighs, without any ceremony. Since then, Scott has had tremendous fun lending Tessa a hand (a mouth...and another part of his body), if it meant making her feel good. Now, tending to Rosie cools their lust a substantial amount, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. The child is a surprisingly heavy sleeper, as a bonus, so Scott glances at Tess significantly, and murmurs, “Tonight.” 

A warm glow suffuses her cheeks, taking her from ‘beautiful’ to ‘gorgeous’ in an instant, in his eyes. 

“Oh, I _love_ you,” she sighs, burrowing herself into his side to nuzzle his neck. They love each other, even regardless of their mutual physical attraction. Tessa had felt like some sort of maniac initially, for not being able to resist jumping on him over and over, and he never once made her feel guilty or bad about it, but indulged her to his heart’s content. 

“Wuv you,” Rosie’s baby voice chimes in, breaking Tessa out of those pleasantly arousing daydreams. She beams at her older daughter, her still so tiny and innocent baby girl, whom she created with Scott. Her love. Her soulmate.

Great, now there are the tears. Damn her for thinking all the stories about increased pregnancy hormones are exaggerated.

“I love you too, my sweet May rose,” she murmurs, smiling and a bit wobbly, because her voice is trembling with emotion. 

Rosie’s little eyebrows pull together in concern. “Mama, you cwy?” 

Blinking it back, Tessa shakes her head and grins, as Scott kisses her on the corner of her mouth tenderly. He understands what she feels. When did he not? 

“Mama is okay, honey. She’s very happy,” he explains, but the two year-old can’t yet grasp the concept of crying from happiness. She puts her tiny hands on her mother’s face. 

“Hush hush, Mama, hush hush,” she comforts, and Tessa’s heart swells a few more sizes. Rosie’s using the same words to soothe her that she, Tessa, uses for her daughter. 

“My rosebud,” she murmurs, leaning to gently nuzzle the tip of her nose against Rosie’s small, impossibly cute button one. Rosie smiles and makes a soft little giggle. 

“That’s it, all this sappiness calls for a…” Scott interjects, a devilish spark in his eyes. “Tickle contest!” 

Rosie shrieks, giggling louder, when he and Tessa begin to tickle her. As the little girl squirms and laughs, Scott pokes his fingers into Tessa’s side too, prompting her to laugh in return. She throws her head back, cackling, trying to slip her hands on his waist bypassing his arms to get back at him. The kitchen seems to be infused with laughter for a few minutes. 

When Rosie gets the hiccups from laughing so much, they let up with the tickling, but Tessa looks back at her husband. Flushed with happiness and mischief, hair messy and ruffled, he is as sexy as ever, not to mention reminding her again of how he looks after other, not as PG-rated activities, which make their hearts race and break out a sweat. 

“I love you too,” he says softly, and the twinkle in his gaze tells her he probably had the same thought about her just now.

“That’s good, just make sure you remember that when we go to bed together tonight,” Tessa smirks, pecking him on the lips. “Because I just might get _cravings_ in the middle of the night...who knows…”

Scott winks at her, as Rosie snuggles back against him. 

Tessa knows that he’ll help her with any cravings. He’s her Scott, after all. 

Except the night turns out hotter still than even seeing and touching shirtless Scott in low-slung shorts. Tessa waits for him, restlessly spread out on the bed sheets. The key word, restlessly, she thinks ironically, not so much eagerly. The heat outside makes her uncomfortably sticky and clammy, for all the air conditioning is turned up and she has had a shower. The pool outside is finished and even filled up already, and she gets the momentary but wild impulse to run outside and cannonball right into it. 

She tosses and turns for a while, futile in her attempts to get comfortable, until she sits up and pulls her tank top and pajama shorts off, throwing them carelessly onto a chair and not caring at all whether they landed. A sigh of partial relief leaves her as she settles back into bed. The thin cotton sheets feel better, almost cooler, against her bare skin. She lets her mind wander while she waits for Scott to return from tucking Rosie into her bed, at her request. Tessa doesn’t mind in the least that their daughter seems to favor her husband for that duty nowadays. She loves that Rosie and Scott have such a strong, sincere father-daughter bond, and she’s only eager for the little girl to have both parents all to herself before the baby is born. Her hand wanders to her bare belly, and she strokes it pensively, wondering if their second baby will be a daddy’s girl, like Rosie, or her own little mama’s girl. No matter which parent she is more attached to, she will be so, so adored by them both, because Tessa knows she has the support, help, and total, all-encompassing love of her husband and father of her children. 

Scott returns, heaving a small sigh of both content and tiredness. Tessa glances up at him, and they share that sort of affectionate look that married parents share, about to discuss their kids. Her nakedness doesn’t matter for the moment - as much as it turns him on (like his does her), Tessa has been married to Scott enough to be completely comfortable and able to wear nothing at all in the privacy of their bedroom. Even if no sex results from it, but hey, she’s open to the possibilities, she thinks, smirking on the inside.

“Rosie okay?” she asks, watching Scott pull off his shorts. He smiles, nods.

“It _only_ took two readings of _Goodnight, Moon_ for her to settle down. And extra hugs and kisses, of course.” 

Tessa’s heart is filled to the brim with love and gratitude at how adoring he sounds. She always knew that a person who wanted kids as much as Scott did would theoretically be a great parent. Yet it wasn’t until their first child was born that she acquired a genuine admiration at how much he flourished as a man, a husband, and a father. 

“That’s a very starstruck expression you have there, Mrs. Moir.” 

Scott’s voice is full of gentle teasing, as he settles near her. Surprisingly, she doesn’t mind that his body emanates slight heat. Tessa would take a bed with warm Scott in the middle of sweltering summer over a cool bed with no Scott at all. 

“Well, I guess your sappiness rubbed off on me, after twenty-some years,” she giggles. Scott’s eyes flash with a bit more carnal emotion than affection, at that. A thrill zings through her, from the awareness of change in the mood between them. 

“Rubbed off, hmm?” He props his head onto one arm. His other hand inches to rest on her rounded waist. “And how else have I...rubbed off on you? Other than my sappiness?” 

His thumb draws small circles on her skin, and her breath hitches. The suffocating heat that she felt five minutes before is a pleasant warmth now. 

Tessa smirks, scooting closer to him, until her naked body is pressed almost flush against his - as close as her belly allows. She gazes into his eyes, beguilingly. “Do you want me to show you? Or want me to _rub off_ on you?”

His warm skin feels so good against her body. She tilts her head up to meet his lips, and her hands wind up in his soft hair. What she loves best about intimacy with him isn’t the seduction and foreplay, isn’t even the sex itself, but the _kissing._ The way that every time their lips part and mingle with each other’s, it somehow feels comforting, arousing, electric, and dizzying, just like the best parts of being friends in love combined with teenagers exploring their first attachment. It’s every cliche about magic, fireworks, and the heart skipping a beat combined, with a rush of hot desire accompanying it.

That’s why Tessa moans, throwing her leg around his waist, wishing to get closer to him, as close as possible and even impossible. Scott holds her tenderly with his strong arms around her, but the more their kiss becomes insistent and passionate, the bolder his hands venture to caress her hips and grip her ass.

“T,” he gasps, once they grudgingly break apart for air. “We gotta be careful, babe,” he half-cautions, half-complains, hot breath ghosting against her mouth. Tessa winks at him wickedly, and leans to gently bite the side of his neck. He grunts and she feels his erection pressing into her lower stomach. She remembers just as well as he does that the doctor advised them against ‘vigorous penetration’ (the good middle-aged woman’s own words), but does she like having to abide by the words of caution? Not so much. Right now, she has to work with what she, well, _has,_ in light of the circumstances. As well as tease the hell out of Scott, naturally.

“Aren’t we careful?” she purrs, stroking his ears with her fingertips, then makes a beeline with her lips for another erogenous zone: the little hollow below his throat. “Last I checked, sex isn’t bungee jumping. We’re inside our house, on a nice, comfy bed. Everything is as safe and careful as can be.” 

She punctuates random words by swiveling her hips against Scott’s groin, and he rasps a curse word, tugging her head back to kiss her neck like she did his.

“Holy shit, Tess, I so want to get inside you that I’d sell my soul right now to be able to,” he whispers feverishly, leaning his forehead in to hers. His eyes are blazing and his breathing is quick. He’s all longing, and Tessa can relate to it one hundred and fifty percent. Scott inside her is one of the best feelings she knows; the thrusting and fullness, the mutual escalation of their pleasure, the gush of heat as he comes in her are remarkable. But, she knows that him being inside her and not being, ahem, _vigorous_ , is about as manageable as going into a chocolate store and leaving empty-handed. That is to say, impossible. At least to Tessa. Yes, of course they love their slow and gentle times, but who’s to say that they would stay perfectly in control and keep their passion in check?

“Scott,” she whispers, kissing him again with fire and purpose. Her fingers grip his shoulders and his hand caresses her bump. “Scott.”

“What do you want, babe? Hmm?”

Tessa stares at him boldly, wanting only one thing, and wanting it _now._ Scott smirks and runs his palms all over the inside of her thighs, as she reflexively opens them to his touch. 

“I want your mouth on me,” she requests, knowing that she won’t have to do much begging since Scott would only be too happy.

Scott’s face brightens, and she closes her eyes and softly moans his name again, seeking any possible friction of his fingers around her folds.

“Is that a craving?” 

Tessa huffs, now with frustration. “You know it. You shouldn’t be teasing a horny pregnant woman. It’s dangerous for your health.” She pinches his ass, or, more like presses her fingernails into the flesh. 

“I’ll be happy to help you. Don’t want to endanger my health,” Scott replies, playfully biting the corner of her ear when his lips move up there from her neck. 

Then, Tessa forgets all about the annoying summer heat in favor of a heat that she _craves._

Scott loves his wife. He loves that she’s a magnificent person, a talented Olympian, a savvy business woman, an affectionate and doting mother. Yet, whenever they have sex, those other aspects of her go to the background of his brain. Here, in bed, he loves her as a man loves a woman. _His_ woman. _His_ wife. He burns with the desire of kissing her everywhere, all over. He’s lightheaded with the lust that she inspires in him, this woman with fiery green eyes, fragrant dark hair, and the irresistibly curvy pregnant body that houses his, _their,_ already second child. The words _ripe_ and _luscious_ pop into his mind, and Scott groans as he kisses her down her neck and pauses at her full breasts. Tessa is ripe and luscious. She’s blossoming with health, with life. He’s absolutely on fire for her, and they have yet to do more than kissing. 

“I want you so much,” he rasps, deliriously, taking one nipple into his mouth. Tessa gasps, and he feels her growing slicker where she’s half-consciously grinding against his thigh. 

“Really?” She sighs, and presses his head closer to her breast. “Never would have guessed.” 

From the way her breathing has quickened, and the way he can practically taste her goosebumps, Scott knows that the lust is absolutely mutual now. He has to be gentle and slow, no hard squeezing, because her growing boobs are sore, but he can’t resist sucking more firmly, and then -

Tessa inhales sharply, and he realizes it’s because his ministrations have released a tiny trickle of milk. _Holy shit._ Scott almost forgot how hot that is, from the previous pregnancy, when it happened by accident. He murmurs about it to her, latching on to her other breast, and it repeats. He sucks up the droplets greedily. His cock twitches, and he’s torn with wanting to never stop pleasuring her (and himself) this way and having to stop because he doesn’t want come two minutes into sex, like a teenager. 

Tessa is panting, shuddering. She’s obviously close already as well. “Scott...oh yes, please yes,” she pleads. But he releases her nipple with a pop, to her disappointed whine. 

He looks into her glittering eyes. “I promise, I’m not done,” he reminds her, and a mischievous smile reappears on Tessa’s face.

Without further ceremonies, Scott dives down to part her legs and begin what she’d requested him earlier. She tastes exquisite, he thinks, brushing his lips and tongue against her gently, slowly. Tessa sighs with undisguised enjoyment, and her thighs tremble a bit, but Scott pauses again, to glance at her. Her hair is spread out on the pillow, and she’s breathing hard. Her eyes are glaring at him. 

_“Seriously?_ What did I do to deserve this sadism, husband?” she complains, exaggerating her pout. “I was expecting soul-shredding orgasms?” 

Scott grins. “I just had to let you know first how delicious you are.” He swipes a harder lick against her then, and she moans, louder than before.

“Is that good?” Another flash of a purely wicked smile. 

Need he ask? After two years of married life? Tessa pulls up on her elbows, and the sight of him grinning from between her legs makes her wetter. 

“Less talking, more licking,” she orders playfully. He gasps, pretending to be scandalized yet she knows that he loves it.

“How naughty, Tessa Jane! But, if the lady insists...I’m not talking anymore.”

So he doesn’t, employing his mouth differently than for verbal communication, until she shakes, cries out, and has exactly the orgasm she wished for.

Scott straightens up, to see her flushed pink from her cheeks down to her chest, glowing, languid. She’s so luscious, even more now. She’s radiant. Before he can offer any comment to that, she grabs his head in her hands to kiss him senseless. 

“I knew there was at least one reason I married you,” Tessa breathes into the kiss. That makes Scott laugh, and she joins in with a chuckle. 

He feels drunk on her passion, on knowing that it was he who pleasured her moments ago, that their mutual craving for each other is still so fiery. He’s so, so, drunkenly in love with her. 

“Any other reasons?” he prompts, after another slow, lazy kiss.

Tessa raises an eyebrow. “Let’s see. I’ve already talked about your skill in soul-shredding orgasms…also, your sexy body, your lips, your gorgeous hazel eyes - hazel, mark me, _not_ brown - your kindness and fantastic sense of humor, your patience and your awesomeness as a father to our daughter -”

“To our one and a half daughters,” Scott interjects, giving a smacking kiss to her abdomen. 

“Don’t interrupt. Anyway, I married you, because I just had no other choice but to marry the outgoing Moir boy who used to skate too fast on purpose, who could sometimes be insufferably cocky and clown around too much but whom I’ll never - hear me - _never_ trade for anyone else!” 

Tessa finishes her speech, leaning her forehead to his. Scott smiles, his heart fluttering with a more tender emotion than raw desire. His incomparable Tess. For all her praise, he still, still can hardly believe that a stunning woman of her kind condescended to marry him and have his kids and love him like he does her. He’s so wrapped up in worshipping her mentally in return, that he suddenly notices how her hand had inched low on his body, until she grasps his erection.

“Tess?” He’s out of breath in his turn. 

“Don’t you want it?” 

She’s a temptress. The apple from Eden’s garden. The call of a sweet-voiced siren. She starts to stroke him leisurely. 

Scott makes himself look at her, instead of closing his eyes against the pleasure. 

“I’m a polite girl. I always thank when people do something nice for me,” she murmurs, in the silkiest tone. 

He can hardly get his thoughts straight. He’s about to succumb to those crafty fingers around him. 

“But you don’t...have to…” It’s getting hard to speak. He can hardly blame himself for the lack of blood in his brain to make him concentrate on talking instead of what Tessa is doing. She squeezes gently, strokes him faster.

“Just enjoy it, Scott...my amazing Scott…” she whispers, as if she might be a bit drunk on love the way he is. “Enjoy me pleasuring you, like I did…” She nips at his shoulder, sprinkling kisses there, and Scott is so wrapped up in the wonderful sensation that the feeling of her teeth biting into his skin gently are the final thing to bring him to the brink and push him off into sheer bliss.

At the end, they’re lying snuggled together, not a bit overheated. That had changed to a peaceful, sated afterglow as they trade soft kisses and unhurried, sleepy words. Yes, what they could not do traditionally, was more than made up for in their enthusiasm. 

Tessa spies the faint mark on Scott’s shoulder that she inadvertently left there. “Sorry,” she wrinkles her nose and blushes when Scott _tsks_ in pretend chiding once he understands what it is she’s saying sorry for.

“Big deal, it’ll be gone by tomorrow,” he says confidently. “Sleep now, Tutu.” He kisses her cheek.

Tessa drifts off with a smile, in his arms. Of course, later they will both get up to console a crying Rosie after a bad dream. They hold and cuddle her enough that she says, ‘Sweep wif Mama n’Daddy?’ with so much hope, that neither Tessa nor Scott have the heart to even gently refuse. So the three slumber as a family in the big bed, right until morning.

The Virtue-Moir poolside party is a total success, Tessa reflects, watching the different family members do their own thing by the pool and around the yard. Joe and his sons and their wives are bickering in a friendly way about the best methods of grilling meat and veggies. Kate and Alma are speaking in hushed tones over their glasses of iced tea, but their smiles reassure that they’re discussing only happy things. Jordan has gathered Poppy, Quinn, and Charlotte for sunbathing ‘like big girls!’ and simultaneously a French braiding workshop. Scott is having the best time, evidently, grinning and laughing like he’s a carefree child, too, as he chases Rosie, Mason, Cruz, and Shea with a water gun. 

Tessa can’t resist grinning herself, looking at him entertain the kids so effortlessly. So many times had she watched him like this at family gatherings when he was with only his nieces and nephews, and it was then that she began to wonder what he’d be like as a father to his own. Now, she feels utterly overjoyed to witness him be so playful and fun with their daughter included in their little crowd.

Squealing, the tiny little girl toddles away, away from her dad, and he runs with exaggerated slowness, occasionally shooting weak and gentle streams of water onto her, to her giggling. Rosie scurries down to where Joe and the others stand by the grill, and she zones in right on a forgotten bottle of beer. Her chubby, curious hand already reaches and grasps the glass neck of the bottle. 

“Careful, the beer!” Tessa calls from her lounge chair, though she knows that in the next moment, Scott will catch up and hoist her into the air, tossing her up and down.

“Careful, the teeth!” he growls playfully, nipping at Rosie’s pudgy arms, and the little girl forgets all about the beer bottle, her peals of laughter echoing throughout the yard. Tessa laughs along. Everything is so simple and so _perfect._ Their families. Her husband and their daughter. All being happy, all laughing and enjoying this day together. There is nothing that she wants for, now that she has all this, she knows it.

As the freshly grilled food is eaten, and they progress towards post-eating relaxation, Tessa moves onto a blanket on the grass. She’d taken a dip in the pool earlier, as Scott and the kids had a spontaneous cannonball competition, and now they are all drying themselves. She reaches to grab an ice cream from the cooler, thankful that the heat is slowly subsiding. 

Scott and Rosie come up to sit near her. The little girl looks a bit tired from running around and exuberant play. She contently sucks on her thumb, snuggled against Scott’s shoulder, not really dozing. Tessa leans over to kiss her head and breathe in her baby smell, that not even the heavily chlorinated pool water could cover.

“I can take her,” she offers Scott quietly, because she wants him to rest a bit from frolicking with the little ones for hours, too. But he shakes his head with a smile, and mouths that he’s fine.

Rosie shifts against Scott, and her eyes focus on something, but Tessa and he pay no attention to it. Until her baby voice rings out:

“Daddy? You gotta boo boo?” 

Scott blinks in astonishment, and Tessa has to resist face-palming. Rosie just busted them, seeing as everyone’s attention shifted towards the three of them after the little girl’s observation. Rosie is brushing her small finger against the quite prominent and quite not-gone-yet mark on Scott’s shoulder. She frowns.

“Daddy owie!” Scott turns as red as Tessa when she attempts to tan without sunscreen. He frantically searches something to distract his daughter with and gloss over the scene before the family catches on, but no such luck. Tessa does snort when Jordan, and then the older Moir brothers slowly put on Cheshire-cat grins.

“Why you got boo boo, Daddy?” Rosie just has to know.

Jordan wags a finger at Scott. “I think your Mama knows, Rosie-posie, ask her,” and Rosie complies, turning to Tessa. She feels her face heat up that the blush, combined with the sun, is sure to give her heatstroke later.

“Um...sweetie, Daddy’s okay. He got a boo boo because he bumped his shoulder,” she fibs clumsily. To that, Danny and Charlie guffaw, and Jordan rolls her eyes, all good-natured sarcasm.

“Right...more like Daddy _bumped_ Mama,” she remarks, not very loudly but audibly enough that Tessa groans and pulls her sun hat over her face.

“Okay, I think that’s that, or I’ll have to change my name and move the hell out of here.”

The hat is lifted slowly off her, and it’s Rosie who had grasped it in her small fist. “Peekaboo, Mama,” she says, sweetly, like she hadn’t just exposed her parents like teenagers. And how can Tessa stay even slightly annoyed at this little person whom she adores?

“Peekaboo, baby,” she returns, pecking Rosie’s cheek. Scott is smiling, all the while, not fazed by the minor awkward situation anymore.

“We need to find some neutral topics to talk about, because I can’t say I look forward to the continuous teasing,” Tessa warns him. Scott raises his eyebrows, a conspiratorial grin appearing on his lips. He picks up another ice cream bar and offers it to her.

“How about less talking, more licking, eh, T?”

She gasps, bursting out in laughter so hard that the baby in her womb starts kickboxing her.

During the fireworks, Scott pulls her in front of him, so he can hold her and Rosie at the same time, as they sit watching colors explode against the July night. They say little, only interjecting a few words as Rosie marvels at the fireworks out loud. But of course, Scott being Scott, he returns to the incident at the poolside.

“Good thing Rosie isn’t old enough to eavesdrop on us when we’re talking about cravings,” he quips. Tessa chuckles, nodding.

“Yeah, our families would think we’re some sort of sex addicts, thinking of nothing but jumping each other’s bones twenty-four seven,” she sighs, as Scott laughs under his breath.

Scott then glances at her, all mischief, letting Rosie clap his hands together. “Are you having any particular cravings for tonight, by the way?”

Tessa shakes her head, endeared and blissful and so completely in love with this man.

“Not really. I’m just pregnant with love, and you are my craving,” she murmurs. When he gasps, she turns to look at him. His eyes are sparkling.

“Are you out-sapping me on this fine Canada Day, dear wife?”

“Well, someone had to say something sappy already. I learn from the best.”

 _“You_ are the best,” Scott corrects her, pure love in his eyes. She settles back against him, and feels him kiss the back of her head. “I love you so damn much, T.”

Tessa gives him a lazy squeeze of a bicep. She’s so blissed out by the sun and the peace and her family surrounding her, her precious daughter and adored husband. 

“Right back at you, Moir boy.”


End file.
